


Lullaby in Insomnia

by nightflower_panda



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bromance, Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Character Study, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Ignis Scientia is a Good Friend, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Noctis Lucis Caelum is a Troll, Oblivious Gladiolus Amicitia, Secret Crush, Slow Burn, Soft Gladiolus Amicitia, Unreliable Narrator, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24892573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightflower_panda/pseuds/nightflower_panda
Summary: Gladio is finding it hard to sleep at night; Noctis is both the cause and the cure for his stress.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Cor Leonis, Gladiolus Amicitia & Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Gladiolus Amicitia/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 16
Kudos: 45





	1. Exercising Common Sense when Exercising is a Must

**_2:56am_ **

The light from his phone screen illuminates the room and Gladio finds his eyes adjust to the darkness far quicker than he would've liked them to. In fact, his whole mind has already adjusted to the idea of being fully alert despite him having only blinked himself awake mere seconds ago.

Gladio rolls over, forces his eyes shut again and exhales slowly in frustration. This is the third time this night. He can't keep doing this. Not with the exam so close now.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Calm down. Relax. 

He needs to rest. He needs to be at his best.

Just breathe. Sleep. 

Breathe.

In.

Out.

Relax. 

Think of nothing. 

It doesn't work.

His eyes open again and Gladio checks his phone to see how much time has passed. 

_**3:17am** _

He stays in bed for another ten minutes, eyelids squeezed tight together and trying once more to lose himself in the steady rhythm of his chest rising and falling, but the noise of his own breathing sounds too loud in his ears and he simply can't fall asleep.

Maybe he's trying too hard and he needs to try something different. Previously, he'd alternated between laying stock still - as he is right now - and tossing and turning until somehow he made it through the night... but it was hardly a restful experience. And it didn't solve the problem of waking up multiple times.

Maybe he should exercise - maybe he can physically tire himself out enough for his body to want to shut down itself. At the very least it'd be something productive. 

So at half past three in the morning, Gladio throws off the covers and begins doing push ups on his bedroom floor. After he completes 100 reps he's still not tired, so he mixes things up by doing one-armed push ups. First his right arm, then his left. Then some more, because why not.

His muscles eventually begin to ache and burn but his eyes unfortunately don't share the sentiment... So Gladio rolls over to start a pattern of crunches, sit ups and leg raises. Then once those are done with, he decides to throw in some squats too: might as well complete a full body workout while he's at it.

It's not until he hears the beginnings of birdsong from outside his window that Gladio realises how much time has passed - panting and sweating and nerves buzzing with adrenaline rather than feeling tired and worn. He's pulled his tanktop off at some point mid exercise and he stands there, half naked, wondering how the hell he can be feeling more awake now than he was when he first started.

His alarm goes off (5am, time for a run before breakfast and morning training at the citadel) so Gladio gives up on the idea of sleep and decides to start his day instead. 

It's only the fifth night he's been finding it hard to stay asleep. Maybe the phase will disappear if he ignores it. 

In any case, he doesn't have the time to worry. Gladio turned 18 last week; the moment has finally come for him to officially take his position as Noctis' shield - and that won't happen until after he passes the Crownsguard test. He has a reputation to live up to, as a proud Amicitia, and a lot of people will be watching and waiting for him to exceed their expectations.

He's counting on himself to blow his own expectations out of the water, too. After all, the next King of Lucis deserves nothing but the best... And there's barely a week left until he needs to prove himself.

Sleep will surely come. After all, when you're that tired you don't have a choice, right?

\----------

"How fare the preparations?" Ignis asks, eyes still firmly on the road as he drives the two of them to Noctis' apartment that early Sunday afternoon.

"Yeah... Fine, I guess," Gladio replies.

He has one elbow leaning against the closed window, fist under his chin as he lazily watches the city's scenery scroll past. 

"You guess?" Ignis chuckles dryly. "Hardly an answer brimming with confidence."

Gladio grunts and Ignis persists, voice gentle yet lilting with a hint of amusement. 

"...Another case of unreasonable self-doubt you require a pep talk out of?" 

"What?" Gladio turns his head to frown at his friend - but he sees Ignis' soft knowing smile and gives up the act with a sigh. "I wouldn't put it like that, but... yeah, maybe I'm a little worried 'bout how I'm gonna do." 

"Surely you have no doubts about passing?" 

"Hey, just passing is never my goal for anything. If I'm gonna do something, I'm gonna damn well do my best at it."

"The only issue being what your definition of 'best' is," Ignis shakes his head, stopping the car at a red light. 

"What're you trying to get at?" 

"Gladio..." Ignis lightly drums his fingers against the steering wheel. "You know as well as I do you have ridiculously high standards when it comes to your duties."

Gladio scoffs, "Rich coming from you, Iggy."

"Quite," Ignis purses his lips together before carrying on, "though irrelevant. The point being, you've been preparing for your role your entire life, as have all your ancestors before you; this exam is no more a formality than anything else."

The light changes and Ignis continues driving. 

"So for you to give it any more regard than you would any other training session any other day of the week is simply inconceivable."

Gladio huffs and folds his arms, looking far too much like an oversized child sulking in his seat. 

"...Call it a man's pride, then."

"Which part?"

"...I don't wanna give anyone any reason to complain. I need to be perfect."

Ignis quirks an eyebrow. "What on Eos would anyone have to complain about you?" 

"It's not about me," Gladio mumbles, shifting lower in his seat and looking out of the side window again. "Look, right now I'm responsible for myself. I do anything good, it's on me. I mess anything up, that's on me, too. But once this whole gig becomes official... It's not just me my actions affect, you know? I don't wanna be the reason for anyone to talk shit about..." 

Gladio sighs, finding it a little difficult to finish voicing his thoughts. He's glad this conversation is happening while Ignis is driving, meaning half his attention (and all of his gaze) should be on the road rather than on him. In all honesty, he'd rather not have the conversation at all - but he and Ignis have been acquainted for long enough for Gladio to know it's easier to have a half-hearted discussion rather than to try and brush it off completely.

"Bottom line is, I just need to do my best," Gladio states with conviction. "And my best just needs to be better than anyone else around."

The quiet hum of the car engine fills the silence as Gladio's worries hang in the air.

"...I'll repeat it once more for you, Gladio. Your exam is a _formality,"_ Ignis speaks firmly though not without empathy. "And your actions already reflect on the Crown - as I'm sure you know well enough already."

"Not officially they don't. Until that ceremony, there's still a chance they'll pick someone else for the job," Gladio retorts.

Ignis resists the urge to roll his eyes, exhaling softly instead. "You really are stubborn over the oddest things sometimes. It borders upon illogical, contrary to your usual nature."

Gladio allows himself to smile, still looking outside as the car rolls to a gentle stop beneath the apartment complex. 

"Hey, we can't all be emotionless like yourself, Iggy."

"Of course." This time Ignis does roll his eyes, car now parked safely in its bay. "Though I shall never understand why people have that impression of me."

Gladio laughs, reaching for his phone. "I'll call His Royal Highness and let him know we're here."

The call goes through to voicemail, which is surprising as Noctis should have been expecting them.

"I'll go and see what the hold up is," Gladio undoes his seatbelt, yawning involuntarily as the strap retracts over his shoulder. 

Ignis notices, of course.

"...Trouble sleeping last night?" 

"No..." Gladio lies, not entirely sure why he does even as he answers. "Just thinking about this fitting session we're on our way to has me bored in advance."

Ignis smirks. "If anything you should take it as a vote of confidence, the fact that the tailors wish to start on your new uniforms even before you've passed any tests. And let's not forget the photoshoot already booked for you when they're finished, either."

Gladio steps out of the car, twisting on his heel to lean down and look Ignis in the eye. "I told you, I'm not lacking any confidence in just passing."

Ignis is silent for a short moment and Gladio wonders if by studying his face the advisor can somehow tell his nerves are affecting him more than he's willing to let on - but then Ignis smiles and waves him away with his hand. 

"Of course."

Gladio is about to shut the door when Ignis speaks again, a little more seriously this time. 

"Though in all sincerity, don't disregard the importance of a good night's sleep. Rest is just as important a part of preparation as training is."

"Of course," Gladio mimics, hoping the comment is coincidental and he hasn't been caught out after all. "What, you think I'm gonna be working out at 3am instead of sleeping?" he laughs brazenly.

"Don't be ridiculous," Ignis scoffs at the absurdity of the suggestion. "Now go fetch our wayward Prince before you're both late for today's appointment."


	2. Staying Measured When Measured Shows a Man's True Measure

Gladio raps neatly on the apartment door. When there's no answer, he lets himself in with his key.

"Hey, Princess! You ready to play dressing up?" Gladio calls as he makes his way inside, removing his shoes at the entrance.

He finds Noctis in the main room, slumped forwards on the table, head resting atop his folded arms and - most enviably - fast asleep. There are papers, pens and a couple of highlighters strewn under and around him, a dictionary closed to the side and some kind of paperback novel open and upside-down in the loose grip of one hand. All that's missing, Gladio thinks, is a little drool to complete the picture. 

"...Hey," he reaches down to lightly pat Noctis' exposed cheek with his knuckles. "Rise and shine, sleepy head. We gotta go."

The Prince growls and snuggles himself deeper into his makeshift arm pillow, eyes still firmly shut.

"Five more minutes," he mumbles, barely coherent.

"We ain't got five minutes," Gladio chuckles, lifting the younger man up by the shoulder like a ragdoll, wrapping his arm behind to keep him steady.

Noctis groans, collapsing sidewards into the embrace. He finally cracks open one bleary eye to look down his nose at his soon-to-be Shield.

There's a long pause. Then he blinks slowly a couple of times before stating flatly, "...I fell asleep." 

"You don't say?" Gladio laughs. "That cos you were hard at work or hardly working?"

"I was studying!" Noctis retorts, pushing Gladio off as he yawns and rubs his eyes. "Classical Literature."

"Yeah?" Gladio picks up the book which is still face down on the table and reads the title: _Silence of Knowledge by Henruit._ "Riveting stuff, huh?" 

"I wish," Noctis scoffs, stretching all four limbs out straight in front of him. "You're lucky you never had to cover this stuff."

"Yeah, I was busy learning how to cover other stuff - namely how to look after your Royal ass," Gladio teases, flicking absentmindedly through the pages.

Unlike Noctis, Gladio had not attended high school. His education was provided by a private tutor, freeing up his time to shadow his father at the citadel and begin training for his position as Shield - something he'd been doing since the age of thirteen.

"Hey, my ass is amazing," Noctis yawns again, finally forcing himself out of his seat and arching his back in another stretch. "Come on then, better not keep Specs waiting."

Gladio rolls his eyes; as if _he's_ the one holding them back from leaving.

"After you," he shakes his head fondly, placing the book carefully back atop the table and following the Prince out of the apartment.

No comment on exactly how amazing he actually thinks Noctis' ass might be.

\----------

"I've already given the designs a once over to ensure the quality is up to par, but the two of you get a final say before the tailors begin," Ignis explains, typing something on his phone as he speaks.

"So if I say I want a moogle hairband as an accessory, it's all good?" Noctis smirks, standing with his arms out like a scarecrow as an assistant takes his upper body measurements. 

"Within reason, Noct," Ignis sighs. 

"And if I say I don't wanna wear a cape?" Gladio mutters, in the midst of having a tape run along the width of his shoulders.

"As I said, within reason," Ignis repeats with a bland stare. 

Gladio grunts, wanting to fold his arms if he didn't have to stay still.

"Don't see the point in all this ornamental faff. Why not just use the uniform I'll actually be wearing instead of a fake, gussied up version..."

"Because it looks better for posterity," Ignis manages to resist sighing again, half wondering if the others are trying to wind him up on purpose. "Your chosen Crownsguard fatigues would likely end up as some version of tank top. Hardly the most inspiring of images."

"Nothing wrong with a tank top," Gladio looks up at the ceiling as the assistant moves to wrap the tape around his broad chest. "Easy to move in."

"Easy to show off your arms in, too," Noctis grins, now getting his lower half measured. "I wouldn't be surprised if Gladio just chooses to go around shirtless," he laughs, spreading his stance wider so the assistant can get to his inner leg.

"Got a problem with that if I do?" Gladio grins back.

"If you're suggesting we have your official Shield portrait taken while you're shirtless, ready to hang on display alongside all the previous generations, then yes," Ignis doesn't sigh but he can't hold back a slight chuckle, "I'm sure plenty of people _would_ have a problem with that."

Noctis laughs again, light and clear, and Gladio drops his head to laugh too - more at the sound than anything else. He's always hated being measured up for new uniforms, especially as he seems to have to do it more often than most what with the rate he's been growing, but the ordeal is a lot more palatable with Noctis at his side.

The two assistants soon complete their task and Ignis leads Noctis and Gladio to the desk so they can look over the final designs.

"The theme is always to have the Shield's ceremonial dress mirror that of the King's," Ignis explains, sitting with the drawings in front of him and Gladio and Noctis either side, "but the exact details are free to adjust as you will - so long as the King's accessories are of a higher count in both quality and quantity."

"So I get the good stuff and Gladio gets what's second best," Noctis hums, leaning his chin in his palm as he pores over the paper. "Sounds about right."

"Sounds like someone's asking to get their ass kicked in training later," Gladio leans forward too, squinting at the amount of detail on the designs. 

"Again with my ass," Noctis smirks, still looking down. "I know you love it, but come on."

 _"Focus_ please, gentlemen," Ignis gives the desk a couple of sharp taps. "Noct, take a look at the gold fastening across your chest - what do you think of its thickness? It needs to be heavy enough to command presence but not so much as to overshadow the detailing along the collar here..."

Gladio zones out a little as the other two discuss the intricacies of Noctis' garments, trying to think of anything useful to add to his own. The drawing is coloured all black, similar to what he already wears as his current uniform, but with a lot more buttons and tassels - gold rather than silver - and a short cape with what looks like a heavy medallion affixing it over his right shoulder.

It looks gaudy and impractical, just as ceremonial dress is meant to be, he supposes.

He yawns, not having anything better to do, and closes his eyes as he waits for Ignis to ask for his opinion next. Gladio thinks he might feel the start of a headache coming on, but he's not sure if it's from boredom or a symptom of his lack of sleep catching up with him. He exhales slowly, eyes still shut.

It feels comfortable, the gentle murmurings of his friends in his ear as he allows his breathing to even out further.

"...Gladio?" 

Ignis looks up, wondering why Gladio hasn't replied to any of his questions.

"Not ignoring but snoring," Ignis snorts, about to tap the other man awake again.

"Wait," Noctis hisses, amused. He takes the pen from Ignis' hand and leans across to draw a smiley face on Gladio's cheek.

Gladio doesn't even flinch and Noctis snorts back a giggle.

"Really, Noct," Ignis sounds disapproving, though he makes no attempt to stop the Prince. "Shall we _draw_ this meeting to a close then?" 

"One sec," Noctis stands up and walks round, so he can reach Gladio's exposed forearm where its currently folded across the older man's chest.

He uses the black biro to neatly print 'I <3 NOCT'S ASS' along the skin. 

Ignis raises an eyebrow, then reaches up to shake Gladio awake as Noctis hurriedly drops the pen onto the table. 

"Mm-- wha?" Gladio blinks a couple of times with a frown.

"I take it you have no complaints about the final design?" Ignis asks, continuing the conversation as if nothing has happened.

"Yeah, no complaints," Gladio rubs at his eyes. Was he sleeping just now?

"I'll let the tailors know. You two can go ahead and wait for me in the car," Ignis stands up and Gladio follows.

"...Why're you looking so smug?" Gladio cocks his head in Noctis' direction.

"No reason," the Prince shrugs, waiting for Gladio to lead the way back out. 

They walk in companionable silence to the car, Gladio unlocking the vehicle and holding the door open for Noctis to climb in first. His head is beginning to throb a little heavier now and Gladio wishes he'd brought some painkillers along with him. He knows he could ask Ignis, but Ignis would likely become suspicious if he did: he'd already asked once about Gladio's sleeping patterns, after all. Maybe he can grin and bear it until they get to the training room - he's sure he has some in his locker there.

"...Everything OK?" Noctis asks as Gladio settles in beside him. "You're looking a little pinched."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Gladio reaches up with one hand to squeeze at his temples. He'd intended to play it cool, but ends up punctuating his statement with a yawn instead.

"Just tired then?" Noctis comments, collapsing back against the seats. "I know the feeling; could really go for a nap myself."

"Thought you just had one before we came here," Gladio smirks, grateful the Prince hasn't noticed exactly how tired he might actually be.

"Nah, that was a boredom nap - like you were doing inside just now," Noctis grins. "It doesn't count."

"That so?" Gladio smiles. 

He'd fallen asleep just now out of boredom? That was new.

Maybe he could use that knowledge to his advantage later. 

\----------

That evening before bed, Gladio heads to the library room in the manor. He doesn't go in there often, never having had the inclination to pick up a novel before, but Noctis' words from before echo in his mind and he thinks there's no harm in trying them out.

What was the book Noctis had fallen asleep to earlier? That might be a good place to start... And if it's one of the required texts at school, it's highly likely it'd be here in the Amicitia collection.

Henry? Hennit?

Gladio runs his finger along the shelf.

 _Henruit._ This is the one: _Silence of Knowledge_. Gladio picks it up and notices the sequels beside it.

Well, it's unlikely he'll ever get to them. He's planning on just reading this one to fall asleep, after all.

He takes his prize up to his bedroom, depositing it on the bed before heading to the bathroom.

His headache from earlier had subsided after a couple of painkillers and a large intake of water, and he'd gotten through his one-on-one training session with Noctis without any issues - aside from the Prince perhaps being a little more giggly than usual. Instead of grumbling as much as he usually did when Gladio knocked him flat on his ass, Noctis spent most of the time smirking. It didn't affect his sparring so Gladio didn't comment, but he never did find out what was so funny either.

Gladio brushes his teeth, looking in the mirror for the first time since that morning, and frowns at the black marks on his cheek. He leans forward to inspect them more closely and sees they make up the remains of a smiley face - he must have unwittingly been rubbing it off along with the sweat during training.

That brat. Is this what he'd found so damn funny?

Gladio rubs at the ink, still looking in the mirror, and notices some more markings all along his forearm. Writing? It's a little smudged and hard to read back to front, so Gladio spits out his toothpaste to look down at his arm properly. 

'I <3 NOCT'S ASS' 

That damn _brat._

Gladio scrubs at the ink, a mixture between annoyed and amused despite himself. Just wait until he catches the younger man tomorrow.

But again, no comment on exactly how much he might actually love Noctis' ass.


	3. Book Me In and I'll Show You a Novel Time

Gladio doesn't sleep at all that night.

How the hell had Noctis found this novel _boring?_ Before the first chapter is even over, Gladio's already completely hooked.

Midnight comes. He promises himself he'll only read for another half hour. 2am comes. He promises himself he'll stop after the next chapter. 4am comes. Well, he might as well just finish the whole book now, mightn't he.

Almost 5am and Gladio crashes backwards against the headboard, book finally closed in his lap. His eyes are burning raw and he's sure he can feel the bags caving large dents above his cheeks, but _damn._ That was a good read. All those years he'd been oblivious to the world of classical literature - what a waste.

His alarm beeps through the symphony of birdsong outside his window and Gladio shuts it off with a sigh. 

Should he skip his morning run?

Probably not a good idea. Start the day as you mean to go on... And starting his day with the attitude of a quitter doesn't sit right with him at all.

Gladio hauls himself out of bed, clicking out his neck as he stands, and places the novel carefully on the bedside table. Well, even if he hadn't slept last night, at least it wasn't down to unwanted nerves - in fact, he'd not thought once about the exam the whole time.

It's just a shame he can't sleep while reading.

On the plus side, he has a relatively light day to try and recuperate a bit. Noctis has school, and the first of two days off from training, while Gladio will spend his time shadowing their fathers. The King has a couple of meetings booked and not much else, after which Gladio is free to do as he wills.

Maybe he'll try napping before dinner... Or maybe he'll pay the Prince a visit to check up on him, even if they have nothing formal planned.

Gladio rubs absentmindedly at his arm as he makes his way to the bathroom, then glances down and remembers the reason it itches so much in the first place; he'd spent so long scrubbing at the stubborn black ink graffitied there, his skin had actually turned red.

Ok, so scratch that plan. He's _definitely_ going to be visiting the Prince later on.

\----------

Gladio puts his key in the door, knocks twice while unlocking it, then turns the handle and steps inside all in one fluid motion.

The day had passed without incident, albeit slowly, and Gladio's now looking forward to a little light teasing as a way of winding down even further. He was fortunate enough to force himself to sleep for half an hour (nevermind the fact he'd tossed and turned for over an hour while trying), so he's feeling relatively energetic, too.

Upon entering, Gladio is greeted by the sound of Noctis grunting gently, out of sight somewhere further inside: soft murmurs of exertion in between quiet gasps. Exercising? Struggling to twist open the lid of a jar? Or is he actually...? 

"G- Gladio..."

OK, so not the last option, even if it's probably the most likely - the Prince is a hormonal teenager, after all.

"Yeah, it's me," Gladio calls back, bending down to remove his shoes. "Sorry for dropping by unannounced!" 

"Gladio?!" Noctis repeats, though he sounds more surprised this time - which is strange, because Gladio thought he was just confirming his presence to Noctis' earlier question.

He rounds the corner into the main room and sees Noctis sitting at the table, hands straightening up the bottom of his shirt and looking a little scandalised. 

"Dude, you could've knocked!" 

"I did!" Gladio shrugs. He may not have knocked properly, intending to surprise the younger man, but he definitely had. 

Although, judging by the light flush on the Prince's face, maybe his initial suspicions were correct and he's walked in on something he shouldn't have.

Gladio hurriedly scans the table top, searching for a change of subject, and spots the photos splayed out on the side - next to the same mess of Classical Literature materials left there from yesterday.

"Oh, hey," Gladio strolls over, picking up the fallen stack of photos and straightening them into a neat pile. "These the pics from that fishing trip we just went on?" 

"Yeah," Noctis huffs, blowing the fringe from his eyes, "Prom gave them to me at school. I was just looking through 'em again now..."

"Yeah?" Gladio sifts through, glad there's no awkwardness in their conversation. "They turned out pretty good, huh?" Maybe he was wrong after all. No way would the Prince be jerking off to photos like these.

"...Yeah," Noctis shifts in his seat, subtly sliding another photo across the table so Gladio can add it to the pile. 

It's a picture of the two of them by the sea. It was hot that day and Gladio is wearing just a pair of low slung jeans, while Noctis is dressed lightly in a plain white t-shirt and black three-quarter length cargos. Noctis is grinning, fishing rod in one hand and fish in the other, and Gladio mimics the smile - pulling Noctis' head flush against his naked chest as he attempts to ruffle the younger teen's hair. It's a nice action shot, Gladio has to admit.

And most definitely _not_ jerking off material... So maybe Gladio had just imagined those grunts and moans from earlier? 

"If you're here, d'you think you could make me a coffee?" Noctis fiddles with the hem of his shirt under the table. "I just need to use the bathroom real quick."

Gladio places the photos back down and sighs, "What, you think I came here to play at being your maid?" but he turns and heads into the kitchen area regardless. "Two sugars, right?" 

"Yeah, thanks," Noctis waits for Gladio's back to be turned before making a move to stand up. "I'll just be a minute."

Gladio adds instant coffee granules to two mugs - less in Noctis', knowing he doesn't like it too strong - and yawns as he waits for the kettle to boil.

His mind wanders back to the thought of Noctis jerking off alone in his apartment... Slouched at the table where he should be studying, fly open and fist stroking rhythmically up and down as he tries to hold back choked whimpers. Does he like it rough and hard or teasing and slow? Does he touch himself anywhere else as he bucks his hips upwards in pleasure? Bite at his lower lip? Lick his fingers and rub tingling circles over his nipple? What kind of face does he make when he cums? 

The kettle clicks itself off as the loud bubbling subsides and Gladio blinks himself back to attention.

Now's not a good time to get too distracted. It's not like that little scene had even happened, anyway.

He finishes making the coffee and wanders back to the table with the mugs, just as Noctis returns from the bathroom.

"Is there something I forgot?" the Prince asks as he sits back down, Gladio pulling up a chair beside him.

He looks a little refreshed, Gladio notices, but he doesn't pay it much mind.

"In what context?" 

"That you're here right now," Noctis rests his chin on his fist. "Thought I wouldn't see you until training the day after tomorrow."

Gladio narrows his eyes, considering, then presses his arm flat down on the table between them with a light thud. 

Noctis glances down at it then blinks innocently up at the other man.

"Am I meant to be looking at something? Cos I don't see anything there."

"No," Gladio smiles condescendingly, "cos I spent long enough last night scrubbing it off." He jabs a finger into his cheek. "Here, too."

Noctis tries but is unable to hide a smirk.

"...You didn't like them?" 

Gladio smiles wide enough to flash a sharp row of white teeth.

"You thought I would?" 

"Well, not long left now, right?" Noctis continues easily, grin fully on display now. "Once you're my official Shield, you're gonna go get your tattoo done - figured I'd help give you a little taste test of what's to come."

Gladio grunts out a laugh despite himself, breaking eye contact as he rubs at his temples with one hand. "A smiley face and a declaration of love for your ass: is that what you take the noble Amicitia crest for?" 

"Swearing your loyalty to me and being happy about it - yeah. Doesn't it sum it up well?" 

Gladio looks up and sees Noctis' expression has softened slightly.

"You _are_ happy about it, right?" 

"I was born to--" Gladio starts but Noctis interrupts him. 

"That's not what I asked."

Gladio stares for a moment - simultaneously wondering how Noctis can look so suddenly regal, while at the same time feeling painfully ashamed at how he'd just been imagining him in ways he knows he's not supposed to - then blinks slowly and smiles softly in return.

"I'm happy it's you."

"Good," Noctis grins, back to his relaxed self again, "because if I need to have an official stalker then I'm happy it's you, too." He bats Gladio on the chest with the back of his hand. "So make sure you pass that exam with flying colours - don't disappoint me now."

Gladio scoffs, picking up his coffee to take a sip.

"Not the way I'd describe the job, but sure. I'll take that compliment."

How he'd ended up making coffee and reaffirming his fidelity instead of getting his revenge, Gladio's not sure, but he knows talking about Noctis' expectations of him is the last thing he needs right now.

He nods at the other mug on the table, deciding to switch topics. 

"Better drink up while it's hot."

"Oh, yeah. Thanks," Noctis picks up his mug and gingerly takes a sip.

"What's with the coffee anyway?" Gladio asks. "No-one here you need to impress, pretending to like the stuff."

"No..." Noctis sticks out his tongue from the bitterness, barely holding back a grimace. "I thought the caffeine might help. Got that Literature assignment due in tomorrow and it's not going so great - I'm anticipating a long night," he finishes with a sigh.

"...Lemme take a look," Gladio pushes his mug to the side so he can reach over for the assignment paper under Noctis' arm. 

_Compare and contrast the imagery in Chapter 7 to that of the imagery used so far. How does this change reflect the change in the main character's frame of mind? Suggest possible reasons for the author's choices of metaphor._

Gladio puts the sheet back down, one eyebrow raised.

"You stuck on this? There's so much to write, though," he leans across to pick up the novel. "I actually quite liked how they changed things up in a way which mirrored the theme they'd been going for so far - it was pretty clever." 

"Wait a minute," Noctis grabs at the book now in Gladio's hand, pulling it down so he can see the other's face more clearly, "I thought you said you hadn't read it?" 

Gladio frowns, not wanting to admit he'd not slept last night because he'd stayed up doing just that.

"No... I said I'd never studied it. Nothing about reading it or not," Gladio speaks confidently, though he honestly can't remember exactly what it is he'd said.

Noctis squints at him - as if he's trying to decide what to do with this information - then turns to scrabble on the table for a fresh sheet of paper and a pen. 

"Gimme what you got, then," Noctis nods over his shoulder at the other man, already poised to write.

"What?"

"You talk and I'll make notes, then you can help me go through the novel after to find quotes. Then I'll start writing it up. You're not leaving until I'm done," Noctis taps the end of his pen on the paper. "I just decided."

"...And you're anticipating a long night?" Gladio clarifies, doing a quick mental sum in his head of the rough total hours sleep he's had over the past week.

"Not if you're helping, right?" 

Noctis grins up at him expectantly and Gladio finds he can't refuse that look.

"...Lemme just skim through chapter 7 again first."

If they finish up quick, maybe Gladio can still get a good run of sleep in. He definitely can't be doing with pulling anything close to another all-nighter - tomorrow's schedule isn't so forgiving - but he can't do a half-assed job for his Prince, either.

"Thanks, Gladio. Must be fate that brought you over here tonight," Noctis smiles. "Always there to look out for me."

Fate, huh?

Gladio knows the words are meant to encourage, but he just hopes they don't come back later to haunt him instead.


	4. Take Those Feelings and Run With Them

_"Must be fate that brought you here."_

_If it wasn't fate, would you still want me? If I wasn't an Amicitia, would I still be worthy to stand by your side?_

_"Always there to look out for me."_

_I am. I want to be. If I can prove myself strong enough, I will be. Always._

_"I'm happy it's you."_

_You are? It's really me you want and not just my name? So I'm not the one who breaks the chain of tradition? So I'm not the one who brings you shame?_

_"Make sure you pass your exam with flying colours."_

_You think I don't know that already? I have to. I need to. People can't think someone else would be better suited for the job._

_"Don't disappoint me now."_

_I won't._

_I can't._

_Please_.

\----------

Gladio blinks up at the ceiling, motionless as his alarm continues to beep, his eyes burning and head humming with white static. 

Last night had been rough. 

He'd tried to sleep properly, he really had. He'd been home by eleven and in bed before midnight, but as predicted his mind had other ideas - taunting and teasing, twisting words of comfort into doubt and contempt.

Tuesday morning. Four days left until the exam on Saturday.

Today is scheduled to be spent doing field training with the Marshall: just the two of them in the wilderness, practicing outdoorsmanship in between hunts - a true test of survival. They take nothing with them except a map, a pocket knife each and their weapons (modestly sized blades in old-fashioned scabbards across their backs), relying on nature for any food and water needs.

The planned trek is supposed to be a round trip, on foot, roughly 2 1/2 hours walk out to the designated haven and back again. Cor's budgeted for Gladio to take up 6 hours of his time... And the 2 1/2 hour one-way journeys don't take into account either rest stops or fights - or the drive to their starting point at Hammerhead.

Ordinarily, it's one of the sessions Gladio looks forward to the most - but running on such little sleep, even Gladio has to admit he's feeling a little worried about this one. Including the fact it was only scheduled that weekend (as opposed to the usual weeks in advance), it probably means Cor has something in particular he wants to cover last minute, too. 

Still, there's not much Gladio can do except worry because there's no way in hell he's going to try worming his way out of it. He has too much pride for that. Nothing else but to ignore the heavy throbbing in his eyes and suck it up.

He pops a couple of painkillers before leaving, preemptive in case another headache should strike.

At least the weather is good.

\----------

Apparently, there's a point which comes after not sleeping for so long when a person gains their second wind.

Gladio thinks he's at that point now, jogging lightly beside Cor and feeling like his whole body is buzzing.

"Do you need to stop and recheck the map?" 

"No," Gladio replies while exhaling, timing his words to keep his breathing controlled as they move, "we'll follow round the edge of this group of trees," breathe in, "then we'll come to a river we can hydrate at." Breathe in. "Two minutes break then continue due west."

Cor smiles, though Gladio doesn't notice. "Lead the way, then."

They arrive at their destination in good time.

Gladio starts a fire in the centre of the haven, their scabbards in a neat pile to the side.

The river they'd come across earlier had stretched back through the wilderness, leading to a slow moving pool not far from where they're currently resting. Gladio had caught a couple of large fish by hand, now preparing them to cook as Cor whittles long sticks into sharp points.

They'll eat, drink, then start heading back. No reason to delay for any longer than necessary.

"How's your condition?" Cor asks, taking the fish Gladio hands to him and skewering it along the length of its body.

"Right now or in general?" 

"Let's say both."

"Yeah," Gladio nods, settling himself by the fire, "no issues here."

It's easier to just hold the sticks by hand rather than waste time setting up any stands or fancy spits; fish doesn't take long to cook, anyway.

Cor stays facing the fire, stone faced and stock still, "So those bags under your eyes are some kind of fashion statement, then. Put there on purpose?" 

Gladio presses his lips together. That was... unexpected. He hadn't thought Cor would be paying that much attention to his face to notice. 

"I er..." Gladio pauses, considering the reason he's so keen to keep his recent lack of sleep a secret in the first place; it's just become the default reaction at this point.

There are a few beats of silence before Cor speaks again.

"If you don't want to talk, I'm not going to force you," the Marshall shifts a little, rotating the fish to cook its underside now, "but here in the wilderness, miles from anyone, it's the most privacy you're gonna get if there's anything you need to get off your chest."

Gladio blinks, taking in the underlying meaning behind the older man's words. 

"And if you didn't think it odd you're on one of these field training sessions so last minute before your exam, then you're an idiot."

"So... there's not gonna be some surprise bushcraft survival element you wanted to prepare me for..." Gladio twists his fish over too, hyperconcentrating on the way it changes colour as it cooks. 

Cor had booked this session on Saturday. So he'd noticed Gladio's problems even before Gladio had acknowledged them himself? Or was it just preemptive? It's difficult to tell.

"It's the same as for every other generation: an aptitude test in physical fitness, as per Crownsguard requirements, followed by combat skills against the King's current Shield. Taking your scores and watching you spar. A glorified training session - that's it."

Gladio exhales. The words sound familiar - not unlike what Ignis had said only a few days prior. He's quiet for a few breaths more, eyes searching the flames for inspiration, then he snorts and bursts out laughing.

"Something amusing?" Cor finally looks across at the younger man, fish now cooked and away from the fire.

"Yeah, just... If you wanted to give me privacy to talk, you coulda just booked one of the meeting rooms at the Citadel," Gladio laughs, relaxing a little. "This is kinda... a lot. Don't ya think?" 

Cor scoffs, "And where would be the training benefit in that?" 

"You weren't worried I might burn out from exhaustion?" 

"You're a big boy now," Cor smirks wryly. "I know you can handle it. Push yourself harder beforehand and the exam itself will be a breeze in comparison."

Gladio leans back too, taking his fish out and waiting for it to cool.

"I didn't know you cared so much."

"I'm the one responsible; can't have you embarrassing me in front of your father."

Gladio opens his mouth to quip something back, then closes it again before speaking. He'd meant it as a joke - that he didn't know Cor cared so much - but thinking about it more, it's true. Gladio is so focused on himself, on his duties, it's easy to forget there are others out there who worry about him just as he worries about them.

What _was_ the reason he's hiding his anxiety, again? 

"...I've been having nightmares," Gladio breathes.

The words sound strange coming out from his mouth, whispery and rough as if they don't belong to him, but Gladio forces himself to continue regardless.

"Not... _nightmares,_ but... thoughts. Voices. I'll wake up suddenly in the middle of the night and find it hard to get back to sleep again. Hell, I've started finding it hard to fall asleep in the first place, voices or not."

Cor doesn't say anything but Gladio can feel his attention upon him, waiting for Gladio to let it all out. The younger man sighs.

"I'm afraid... of being the one who lets Noct down," Gladio frowns, head up towards the clear blue sky. "I... I don't want anyone to say I'm not good enough. It's not even about thinking I _can't_ protect him, cos I damn well know I can, it's just... He deserves better. He deserves the best."

Gladio doesn't look to see what expression the Marshall is making. He's not sure if he's explaining himself properly - the words sound far too simple for the complicated feelings stirring inside.

"Who are you comparing yourself with?" Cor finally asks.

Gladio swallows. Is it OK for him to say it? Voicing it out loud makes it feel more real.

"Everyone? I don't want _anyone_ to be better. I don't want anyone to think, hey, that Amicitia kid isn't so great - so-and-so would make a much better Shield. It'd be better..." he forces out the end of his sentence, even though the words struggle against him, "...better if Gladio wasn't the one keeping our King safe." 

"Do _you_ think there's someone better out there?"

Gladio clenches his fist.

"I..."

Did he? He's undoubtedly the best in their group when it comes to physical strength, but Gladio still can't shake the feeling that isn't enough. Maybe someone else existing isn't the problem.

"I feel like I'm missing something."

Cor begins eating, seemingly satisfied with the younger man's answer.

"Confidence. What you're missing is an ego."

Gladio can't help but laugh.

"Tell _that_ to anyone who'd listen."

"I didn't say pride," Cor quips back, even before Gladio's finished his sentence.

Cor motions for Gladio to start eating, too.

"You fight well, you take your role seriously and you're loyal - no one but a fool would think you unsuitable," the older man continues, the camp fire crackling softly beside them. "The only challenge you face is a mental one: the way you react to stressful situations and the need to keep a level head."

"I'm... too emotional?" Gladio considers the differences between himself, his father and the Marshall. The other men definitely radiate a more dignified aura than Gladio does.

"You overthink things," Cor replies simply.

Gladio is quiet as he eats - to think over the older man's words, ironically.

"So... if I bury what I'm feeling, I'll be able to concentrate better..."

"That's not what I said," Cor scoffs. "Suppressing your emotions isn't healthy - neither is it the same as having a controlled outlet for them. Identify your fears and use those insecurities as your strength. Don't run from them, don't fight against them; face them head on and fight _with_ them."

Use his worries as his strength? Gladio considers the idea. Isn't that what he's been doing all this time already, stubbornly refusing to quit despite it all? It's frustrating how Cor makes it sound entirely too easy. 

Maybe it's all about reframing his perspective. 

Gladio tries to find the best way to respond to all this advice, to show he's appreciative even if he doesn't yet entirely understand.

He yawns.

"...Am I boring you?" Cor smirks, though his voice is still deadpan.

"No, I--"

"One last piece of advice before we head back," Cor points up at the sun, hinting at the passing time, "find something that'll help you sleep before Saturday. Some kind of crutch - a routine you can do before going to bed which leaves you relaxed."

"A routine?" 

"Forced association," Cor taps a finger to his skull, "to trick what's in here. It doesn't need to be much, as long as it's relaxing and you're consistent. Repeat it before sleeping and any time you wake in the night."

"Right," Gladio nods. "I'll keep that in mind."

Cor stands up, signalling the end of their conversation.

"You say His Highness deserves better, but you deserve better too, Gladio. Don't be the one to shoot yourself in the foot." The Marshall places a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Your feelings have a meaning behind them. Try and figure out what that is."

Gladio looks away, knowing full well what that meaning is - it's the reason he keeps sneaking glances at the Prince and the reason he enjoys imagining him in compromising positions. Not that he can reply to Cor with this fact.

"...Yeah. Thanks."

Unless these emotions are also something Gladio's supposed to channel into becoming one of his strengths? Not to suppress or ignore? 

"6 hours," Cor states blandly, bringing Gladio back to attention. "If you don't want to run the whole way back, I suggest we get moving."

"Right," Gladio stands too, feeling a new resolve creep through him. "I'm ready."

\----------

"G- Gladio--" 

Noctis' voice is soft as he whimpers the name, legs spread wide in his chair at the table, knees turned inwards and the balls of his feet pushing down into the floor.

_"Ah--"_

Gladio watches as Noctis' fist pumps rhythmically up and down, the Prince's other hand squeezing the seat hard enough to turn his fingers white. Quiet gasps and moans drift into Gladio's ears, Noctis with his eyes closed and head thrown back in bliss. 

"Mmph-- _Gladio! There!"_

Noctis cums, spasming where he sits, choking on his voice as he covers his own front in hot, stringy jets. Gladio bites his lip at the view. _Damn._

The Prince blearily opens his eyes again - blue meeting amber - and gives a weak lopsided smile. It takes Gladio's breath away.

Tuesday night. Only three more nights left after this one.

Gladio doesn't intend on jerking off every night, multiple times a night, as the crutch he should use to help him sleep - but when considering actions which left him feeling sated and relaxed, his imagination kept returning to that image of Noctis in his apartment: at the table surrounded by studying materials, quietly pleasuring himself... Except for that to make sense, he must've been jerking off to a photo of himself with Gladio... So it isn't much for Gladio to extend that fantasy to hear Noctis call his name as he does it.

Gladio had allowed himself to orgasm the first time, grunting a muffled moan into his pillow as he came into the tissues in his hand - and it was relatively easy to fall asleep in his lax post-orgasm state - but at 2am (the first time he's awoken that night) he tries to just settle for the memory of it instead.

He exhales slowly, licking his lips at the now familiar scene in his mind. Stay consistent, right? 

"Go to sleep now, Gladio," Noctis smiles, half-lidded and breathless, leaning forwards to press a soft kiss to Gladio's brow.

Surprisingly, Gladio does.


End file.
